


Observations

by abigail89



Category: Almost Human
Genre: Gen, Male Friendship, bromance?, maybe friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-05
Updated: 2013-12-05
Packaged: 2018-01-03 14:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1071311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abigail89/pseuds/abigail89
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, honesty is not the best policy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Observations

"Get in," John says curtly.

Dorian slides in and barely has the door closed before John steps on the gas, and the car moves away from the kurb, tires squealing. "Whoa, you okay?"

"Yeah. I'm fine."

Dorian turns to regard his partner in profile: jaw set, eyes aimed straight ahead. Nostrils flare slightly. He turns on his bioscan software and slowly reads John's body, because his words and his body language are saying two entirely different things. _Respiration up. Heart rate slightly rapid. Blood pressure elevated, not enough to be a problem. Muscles tense. Gripping the wheel a little too tightly. Definitely not as fine as he says._

He settles into his seat and then runs through the possible scenarios that may have put John on edge: didn't sleep well. _Of course_. Expecting a bad day. _Possibly_. His date last night. . . . Even though he knows it will make John mad, Dorian scans his genital physiology, and . . . .

"Did your date with Clarissa not go well?" Dorian asks. 

John remains silent.

"Ah. I guess that's it." Dorian considers several responses, but then says, "I'm sorry."

John exhales and shakes his head. "She cancelled."

"Cancelled?"

"Said she had something to do for work last night."

"That's entirely possible."

John remains silent, but Dorian perceives that his partner doesn't believe his own answer. In fact, nothing about the answer rings true. He runs John's voice pattern through his forensic analysis and arrives at an all-too familiar conclusion. "She didn't cancel. You did," he says quietly.

John turns to him, his eyes stormy. "Well, that's just fucking wonderful. My partner doubts every word out of my mouth and has to run a lie detector on me. Tell me, Dorian, do you do this to all the humans around you, analyze them hoping to catch them in a lie? Sometimes people don't want to tell the truth because the truth is private. Yeah, so I cancelled on Clarissa. I cancelled our date because I had a really fucking hard day yesterday and the thought of seeing a lovely, intelligent woman who does nothing but teach sweet 5 year-olds turned my stomach. Not that I didn't want to see her, but that I didn't want _her_ to see me. I went home and showered, and do you know what I found in my hair, Dorian? Brain matter. Blood. Dirt. It was on my shirt and my jacket and all of that reminded me of what I do every day--I wallow in the underbelly of life, the shithole of humanity. How could I possibly go out with Clarissa after shooting five guys, one at point-blank range? I could just hear the conversation over claret and pasta, 'So how was your day, John?' she'd ask. And I'd reply, 'Oh, pretty typical. Shot five 20 year-olds to death who were hopped up on drugs and waving assault weapons at me and my colleagues. Maybe you taught a few of them. Too bad all those manners you taught them in kindergarten didn't stick.' Yeah, that's just perfect, isn't it, Dorian?"

Dorian observes John is breathing harder, an indication he's upset. Not angry. Upset. In the short times he's been assigned as John Kennex's partner, he's seen his human run through a variety of emotions. But never truly _upset_. He reviews his notes about John carefully in the charged silence of the car. And yes, while John approaches their difficult job with professionalism, he does on occasion become angry. But the job rarely causes him to lose his composure. Yesterday's events were indeed shocking, even to him. Shooting suspects is never easy; killing young people, even ones who were threatening their lives and those of their colleagues and innocents, even less so. 

"I am sorry, John," Dorian says finally. "I should have known it would not have been easy for you to transition from a terrible experience to a pleasurable one."

John doesn't say anything for a long time. If there is one thing Dorian has learned it is to give John time to process his thoughts. They pull up to police headquarters and john throws the car into park.

"Dorian, I'm sorry... I regret...snapping at you. It's just..." He rubs his forehead with a slightly shaky hand. 

"I am sorry for intruding in your personal life. That was inconsiderate of me." Dorian places his hand on John's arm.

"Yeah, it's all right." John sighs. "Ready to catch some bad guys today?"

"Maybe we won't need to," Dorian says, opening the door and stepping out.

"Have we had a day when we didn't?" John replies, pulling on his jacket. "By the way, how did you know about Clarissa?"

They walk up to the entrance, and Dorian considers his answer. "Just a lucky observation," he says, lying.


End file.
